Uninvited
by Drucilla
Summary: After Willow's latest foray into the dark side, Tara finally leaves Sunnydale for LA, and finds comfort in the strangest of places. Tara/Holtz, but it's not what you think, please read and review. Parts 7 & 8 up
1. Default Chapter

**Uninvited**  
by You-Know-Who and Drucilla

Disclaimer: Holtz, Tara, and the cast of Buffy and Angel aren't ours. We wish they were, but they're not. Set post-Wrecked and post-Dad, because that's when we started writing. Written both in response to a mutual challange (take the strangest couple from both shows and make it work) and as a result of sitting up too late during finals week. Please read and review and tell us how good the strangeness is. The title isn't ours either, if someone can submit one that isn't so cliche they get 25 experience points.

Tara hunched over in her flimsy, second-hand coat as she walked the five blocks to the bus stop. It was unusually cold tonight, and the wind was hitting the backs of her legs hard enough to make them numb and buckle. Cold as she was, she still convinced herself that a new start would do her some good. Already, she missed Dawn and felt guilty about abandoning her. She concentrated on not even thinking about Willow. After the accident and Dawn's protracted stay in the hospital, Tara had left Sunnydale. She couldn't stand to just sit by and watch Willow destroy herself, and she had too much sense of self-preservation to try to help and be drawn into her love's downward spiral.

Willow hadn't been exactly receptive to the idea of giving up magic and facing reality, and while Tara could certainly understand it, she could never condone it. She hoped that maybe her leaving would give Willow a wake-up call, some sort of insight and understanding into her problems. Tara felt a little guilty, but she also felt relieved no longer to be worrying about them.

Still, Tara was starting to wonder if she'd made the right decision. Los Angeles was a big city, different from what she'd been used to, and she was finding it very cold, very harsh, and very lonely. _Now what?_ was the question that pushed itself to the forefront of her mind as she shivered and pulled her coat more firmly around her. She'd gotten to LA, found a reasonable (crummy, her mind whispered) apartment and a reasonable (hellish) job, and found herself with nowhere to go, no plans for the future. She'd always made so many plans with Willow, even if they were silly and not likely to be fulfilled, that now she found herself very much at loose ends and missing the wild speculation.

She had loved being around Willow, Dawn, and the others around as well. They had become her family and her support. Here, she wasn't sure how she would take care of herself and very much doubted she'd have the chance to do the same for anyone else. And she was starting to find that she missed it. She thought briefly about volunteering at a soup kitchen, but even that most likely wouldn't provide her with the family she had always wanted, and found in the Scooby gang.

She had been tempted to call them, but knew better. She would have been on the next bus out there and that would do none of them any good. She cared about all of them too much to go back to the way things had been as though nothing had happened. 

So instead she was standing here, at an ice-cold bus stop waiting for a perpetually late bus on her way back to her roach-infested apartment from a greasy job with a boss who kept eyeing her in a way she really didn't like. Not that she had recieved many decent looks here. She only could hope things got better for the Scooby gang and for herself. Maybe she just needed more time to get used to the ways LA worked, but then she still wasn't sure she wanted to.

When the vampires swarmed her from the alley behind the bus stop her first thought was _I know I wanted to go back home, but I didn't want home to come here like_ this! She looked around for anything that might be useful against them as they moved closer. Unfortunately, lacking Slayer strength she didn't think she'd be able to break the wooden bench, and nothing else around her looked movable or hit-nasty-things-trying-to-kill-her-able. She'd even stopped carrying stakes in her purse, thinking that in LA she'd worry more about muggers than vampires. Tara contemplated running but that would leave her back wide open to them. She was sorely tempted to use her magic on them. So much for things getting better, they were getting progressively worse.

The one grabbing her in a choke-hold and sinking fangs into her neck from behind took her entirely by surprise, as did his sudden explosion into dust before he'd had a chance to do more than tear her neck. She sank onto her knees choking and clutching her neck. Her vision blurred as she looked around for whatever had just saved her. With her luck, it was an even worse monster than merely wanted the vampires out of the way to get at her more easily.

Her luck actually seemed to be holding, she realized after the first few minutes. Whatever it was, it had dispatched three of the vampires in short order, and was sending the fourth one flying... straight into her, she realized too late to duck. She winced as the vampire slammed into her and whimpered as she heard what she thought to be bones breaking. She blinked and attempted to weakly shove the body off of her.

One of the last vampires, having successfully dodged her rescuer, grabbed her in a last-ditch effort to drink her or use her as a human shield, she wasn't sure which. Then again, it didn't seem like her rescuer was intent on actually rescuing her so much as killing the vampires. Can't have everything, she thought wryly. She tried to shake him weakly wincing and clutching her chest. Would be nice if he would actively rescue her at the moment however, she thought grimacing in pain.

As though hearing her thoughts, whoever-it-was bodily picked up the vampire and sent him flying into a wall. A quick motion later, and he was brushing the dust from his jacket. Tara shivered more from pain and uncertainty than the cold. She hoped that whoever this was wasn't going to attack her now that the others were taken care of. She tried to decide whether to thank whoever-it-was now or wait til she was certain she was in fact safe.

Which, she thought with alarm as she saw the whatever-it-was coming closer, she was about to find out. Her eyes wouldn't focus and it was getting harder to stay awake, which didn't make her feel any better about her situation. She clutched her head blinking to try to clear her vision and look up at her rescuer and make out his face.

He looked human enough, maybe she could reason with him. "P-please don't hurt me," she managed to stammer out, but it made her chest hurt, a lot, so she stopped. And anyway, she was sounding pathetic and whiny. She whimpered softly and strained her eyes to try and see more clearly. 

The man just stared down at her, watching her, thinking or waiting for something. He didn't seem to be dangerous. At least not in the way she had been expecting. "T-thank you," she said softly feeling a little bad for leaping to the conclusion that he would hurt her. Not to say it wasn't a logical one. 

He knelt down beside her and poked and prodded at her ribcage, gently but firmly, like a doctor. Tara hoped he was a doctor. She had the sinking feeling she needed one. She bit her lip to keep down her whimperings of pain and closed her eyes feeling her vision blurring even more than before.

He made a noise that could have been a curse or just muttering to himself, then reached around behind her, slowly maneuvering her into a position where she could be picked up. She found the silence slightly unnerving but also found it too hard to form any words, concentrating only on the pain in her chest, the swelling bruises on her neck, and keeping herself conscious. At the first sudden jolting movement he made, however, she knew it was a losing battle. She closed her eyes reluctantly bracing herself against more pain and giving in to the evitable. Praying that he wasn't taking her to a situation even worse than her current one, Tara slowly sank into blessed, pain-free unconsciousness.


	2. Underground

**Uninvited: Underground**  
by You-Know-Who and Drucilla  
  


Disclaimer: Holtz and Tara and Sahjhan aren't ours, they belong to the esteemed Joss Whedon. We wish they belonged to us. The drugs belong entirely to us, though, it's how we come up with crazy stuff like this. And for those of you who were wondering the two big questions: 1) Wait and see, it's not what you think and 2) Tara didn't have time to come up with a spell. You try getting attacked by and then rescued from seven vampires within the space of as many minutes and see how well you're able to concentrate. 

_"No one can blame you   
For walking away   
With too much protection and   
No love injection   
Life can't be easy  
It's not always swell   
Don't tell me truth hurts little girl,  
'Cause it hurts like hell  
But down in the Underground  
You'll find someone true  
Down in the underground  
A land serene, a crystal moon   
It's only forever,  
Not long at all.  
-- David Bowie, "Underground"  
_

Holtz laid the girl carefully out on his bed, moving slowly so as not to jar her further. He wasn't sure how injured she was, but she'd lost consciousness when he'd moved her and there was a lot of blood, so it was probably safe to assume that she was at least moderately injured. He probably shouldn't have brought her here, but he couldn't think of anywhere else to go, and he didn't know what this century had in terms of everyday doctors.

The demon walked down the stairs, and Holtz straightened up, tense, as he always was around Sahjhan. Something about that creature made his dagger hand itch. "What do you have for me tonight?" he asked in a neutral tone. 

Sahjan grunted, looking at Holtz and then the girl a bit confusedly. He sighed heavily. "Plenty of things. " He pulled a small stack of papers from out of his robe and handed them to Holtz. "What's with the girl?"

Holtz looked through the stack of papers, more interested in them than in explaining why he brought home a victim of a vampire attack. "A coterie of vampires attacked her. She was injured. Good. This is promising, at least."

Sahjan scratched his head. "Ah ha."

Holtz didn't like the tone of that 'Ah-ha'. He looked up at the demon questioningly. "You have something to say?"

The demon shrugged. "Not really. Yet."

Holtz stared at the demon for a long while before turning back to the sheaf of papers in his hand. "Good."

"Yeah," the demon said shaking his head. He supposed it made no difference so long as she left soon.

Holtz wandered over to the girl, still reading. "I'll need bandages, alcohol. Supplies. She's been badly injured." He said it all in the same tone as he requested warriors for the cause a few days ago. Neutral-voiced, calm, implacable.

The demon gave him an odd look of disgust as Holtz continued to read. Who did that man think he was, anyway? He was a demon, not Florence Nightingale. "Okay. Bandages, alcohol." Sahjhan said unenthusiastically.

Holtz set the papers aside and carefully examined the girl. Her clothing was ruined, so it wasn't too much of a job to push aside the shirt at her ribs and check, carefully. "And a nice dress..." he said almost absentmindedly. Her clothing _was_ ruined, and he couldn't very well give her his as he didn't particularly have any to spare, and it wouldnt' have fit anyway. And he couldn't send her back out looking like this. 

_A nice dress?_ The demon muttered under his breath about the wonderful job Holtz was doing of showing no mercy and stalked off to go get what he had requested. Holtz made her as comfortable as he could, then sat in a chair nearby and watched her, waiting for the demon to return with the requested items, waiting for her to wake up and tell her who he should return her to... waiting for something to happen.

***

Tara groaned softly opening her eyes, vision still clouded a while later. She was a bit surprised to be on something soft and looked around rather uncertainly. The man who had rescued her... she guessed he rescued her, because she appeared to be on his bed in his... underground crypt? Wherever she was, he was sitting a chair, watching her from the shadows by a pillar. She wondered what on earth she should say to him. She doubted he was going to speak first though. She examined the teeth mark on her neck with her hands and finally came up with something. "Ummm...Thank you again for....saving me."

"You should rest," he said quietly. "You've been badly hurt."

She managed a small nod. She felt a bit silly for not dealing with the vampires herself, but she hadn't been thinking clearly at the time. She wondered if she ought to at least introduce herself. "I'm T-Tara..." she managed. "Do... do you have vampire problems often.... here?" She flushed slightly as the question was a bit foolish. But it worked for a conversation starter. Or so she hoped.

Holtz blinked at her. Even in his time, in his place, vampires hadn't been commonly known of. For him to have rescued a girl who apparently knew about them and had had some experience with them was more than chance allowed, or so he thought. 

Tara had hoped for more of a response, but supposed that would do. She decided maybe he prefered the silence.

"No more than any other city," he said suddenly, realizing that she was probably expecting a response of some sort. He lapsed back into silence again, though, not particularly inclined to make friends.

Tara nodded. LA was a large city. Perhaps the lonely, angsty depression of it all attracted lots of vampires. That and Sunnydale wasn't too far away. She waited for him to say something again, but evidently he really did prefer silence. It wasn't too reassuring considering her situation, but it did mean she didn't have to explain herself or plead for her life or something. She decided maybe it was better to be quiet after all.

At that point Sahjan returned muttering under his breath about nice dresses carrying several large packages. Tara blinked, startled, and tried to turn around to look at him. The movement jarred her ribs and she sank back onto the bed, gasping for breath from the pain. Sahjan sighed at her and set the packages down next to Holtz who had practically teleported to her side and was gently forcing her to lie down again. "I told you," he said quietly, "you're hurt. Don't move."

Tara clutched her chest and attempted to reassure herself with the fact that if need be, she could use magic to get away from the demon. "O-okay," she managed weakly.

The demon rolled his eyes at Holtz's display of concern and made a come-here gesture. "Can we talk?" he said to Holtz with ill-masked irritation.

Tara looked uncertainly between the two of them. The man didn't seem to think the demon was a threat which confused her even further. Then again, she reminded herself, technically Spike was a vampire, and the Scoobys used his help all the time, albeit disgustedly. Thinking about the Scoobys hurt as much as her ribs, though, so she stopped. She also doubted the demon would have gone shopping for his enemy as she noted the packages next the man's chair. She swallowed back a small chuckle and winced.

Holtz gave her one last glance-over and walked a little ways aside with the demon, looking mildly annoyed. Whether his annoyance was directed at the demon, the girl, or the whole situation, his expression didn't show it in the slightest. Sahjan crossed his arms and waited slightly impatiently.

"How long is she staying?"

"As long as is necessary," Holtz said with finality in his voice.

The demon scowled. "Isn't that wonderful," he added sarcastically.

"Look, Little Miss Sunshine is welcome to stay but don't you forget the arrangement here, buddy. I'm a demon not your manservant," Sahjan said in an agitated whisper. "And she better not become a distraction."

"I won't be distracted," Holtz said in tones of profound disgust. "In case you've forgotten what Angelus did..."

"No, I certainly have not," the demon said througily disgusted as well. "Just don't you forget. No mercy and I mean it."

"I know what I swore," Holtz said, and ended the conversation by walking back to the young woman.

The demon nodded "Good." He left shaking his head. He decided to get a stiff drink after all.

Holtz ignored the departing demon and turned his attention instead to the injured woman in his bed. The sooner he got her out of here, the sooner the demon would cease to be annoying... more annoying. And the sooner he could go back to devoting all his attention to hunting down Angelus. Tara had by this point dozed off due more to the excrutiating amount of pain she was in. Holtz sighed. Fine. If she was unconscious, that made his task that much easier. He was no surgeon; all his medical skills he had acquired in the course of hunting down vampires, having to patch himself and his men up constantly. Gently, as carefully as he could, he began to clean and bandage her wounds.

It had been a long time... even allowing for the 227 years he'd "slept"... since he'd done this to or for anyone. His hands remembered the skills, but sometimes he had to stop and think about what was next, or how to lay the bandages. She was, he was realizing as he looked more closely at her, quite young. Perhaps the age his daughter would have been.. perhaps older. He shoved the thoughts away almost violently. That was then, this was now.

Holtz managed to finish bandaging the girl, setting broken bones and the like, without her waking again. He couldn't decide if that was good or bad: good, because it meant he didn't have to feel obligated to make at least monosyllabic conversation, bad, because it meant he couldn't find out where she was from and return her. He sighed. She would wake eventually, and then he could question her. In the meantime, he would sit back, and watch, and plan. He still had work to do.


	3. Lullaby

**Uninvited: Lullaby**  
by You-Know-Who and Drucilla  


  
  
Disclaimer: Yadda yadda, not ours, blah blah blah. Read! Review! Read and review other stories while you're at it, go see You-Know-Who's library of infamy. Holtz, Tara, etc, not ours, again. The Gartan Mother's lullaby isn't ours either, but it's pretty. 

_ Dusk is drawn and the Green Mans' thorn  
Is wreathed in rings of fog;  
Sheevra sails his boat till morn  
Upon the starry bog.  
A lyan van o, my child, my joy,  
My love and heart's desire.  
The crickets sing you lullaby  
Beside the dying fire.  
-- Gartan Mother's Lullaby, trad.  
_

Holtz appeared to be sleeping when Tara woke up. He was sunk low in a chair, anyway, his head lolling forward slightly, his posture slumped and relaxed. Tara yawned softly feeling better than she had earlier in the week. She looked around his home and decided that it wouldn't hurt to get up and stretch a bit. She was a little bit tired of remaining in bed anyway. 

She moved to a sitting position and stretched a bit. She didn't know if she should risk moving around too much if she still was in pain. After a week or so of having to let him help her with absolutely _everything_, though, she was ready to start trying to walk again. She set her feet on the floor and started to stand. It wasn't so painful if she concentrated on other things. The place was so dark and dismal. She wondered why he lived in such an unpleasant place. 

Tara began to walk around. The pain from walking was more stiffness than anything else, if she took care not to jar herself. The problem was, she thought she might be feverish as well. She sighed softly and wiped at the beads of sweat on her forehead. She began to walk around the large room, leaning against a piller when she was tired. After a while she sunk onto the floor leaning against it feeling a bit queasy mostly from the fever. "Oh ... oh no..." She said, trying to keep from throwing up. She covered her mouth with her hands and closed her eyes and tried to think of something else to concentrate on. 

The arm around her shoulders and the cool cloth on her head provided an excellent distraction. She opened her eyes slowly and stared up at the man who had saved her gratefully. "You're fevered," he said quietly. "You should be in bed."

"S-sorry," she managed softly leaning against the pillar, concentrating on his voice and the cool cloth on her forehead. He picked her up as gently and slowly as he could, steadying her when it looked like she was going to fall, and half-led, half-carried her back to the bed. She tried as hard as she could to support herself on her own but was glad to have his help as she wouldn't have made it back to the bed without it. "Thank you," she said smiling weakly.

He grunted something that might have been a response and set about getting her settled back into the bed, keeping the cool cloth on her forehead as he did so. It was rapidly warming, a fairly good sign that she was feverish. She closed her eyes again and bit her lip to keep from whimpering in pain. He tucked her into the bed, then disappeared into some other part of the room.

She opened her eyes, a bit startled to find that she was wishing he had stayed, feeling mildly unsafe alone. She curled up on herself as best she could without causing more pain and started thinking of anything other than the fever. After a long interval he returned, with what looked like a box of bandages, medicines, and something that smelled suspiciously like alcohol. She looked at the supplies hesitantly and wiped at her watering eyes hoping he knew what he was doing.

He checked the bandage at her neck, pouring peroxide on a cloth and pressing it to her neck wound, and then replaced the cloth on her forehead with another, cooler one. She winced as the peroxide-soaked cloth touched her neck but concentrated on the damp cloth on her head. She blinked rapidly trying to stop her eyes from watering. He poured something into a cup, held it up to her lips. "Drink...."

She drank it slowly and uncertainly trying to discern what it was before she drank too much of it. It tasted like mint tea, with an aftertaste of alcohol. She felt slightly better after having it although she didn't particularly care for it's aftertase. "Thank you," she said again in a shaky voice.

He stared at her with what might have been a smile or a grimace. "You keep saying that."

Tara flushed apologetically, smiling slightly. "I'm sorry....." He shrugged with a fair amount of indifference and turned his attention instead to cleaning the wounds on her ribs, the scrapes and tears, and checking the state of her broken bones.

She shook her head slightly bemused. It wasn't like he said much either. She pondered what else there was to say besides "Thank you." She supposed she could ask for his name. She wasn't sure if she was being rude for not asking or if he was being rude for not telling. Or maybe he just didn't think it mattered. 

He rebandaged her ribs, disinfecting them with gratuitous amounts of peroxide. Despite his hands coming within milimeters of ... well, certain areas, he seemed to be ignoring her entirely, as though she were a machine that required repair. She winced from the perioxde. Although Tara felt awkward speaking or asking him anything as he seemed to enjoy the silence, she decided to do so anyway. "I...Is...Could I ask you something?"

She was a bit surprised that he agreed so readily, but took courage from his..well, indifference. "I don't...want to sound rude, but...what's your name?"

He blinked a second. "Holtz." Then he began to pack up the medicines.

She resisted the temptation to thank him again although for some reason she really felt obligated to. He turned and went off to the part of the room she couldn't see.. or another room, for all she knew... before she could say any more.

Tara sighed softly, resting her head on her pillow. She'd have some reason to thank him later though. She was fairly positive of that. After a shorter interval this time he reappeared, taking his seat towards the table with the computer again and settling into it, watching her. She looked back at him slightly bemused. She cocked her head questioningly. He just kept watching her.

Tara covered a small smile with her hand before looking around the room as they continued to tiptoe around conversing with one another. He just watched her, his expression unreadable. He barely seemed to need to breathe, certainly he didn't move. She sighed faintly so it didn't disturb the silence and pondered ideas for conversation starters or topics or...anything....

"S-so..." she tried, feeling very foolish and young for doing so, "Wh-what do you do.... all day..." she trailed off. "I mean...besides.....this...Do you..hunt vampires?" She added after a slight pause. Holtz stared at her with something vaguely like shock on his face. He didn't seem used to actually talking with someone, having a polite conversation or feeling emotions of any sort, even one as mild as confusion. "I'm sorry," Tara said flushing. "It's just... well, the silence...is.....well.....I mean...." 

"Yes," he said suddenly, still looking mildly shocked. "I hunt vampires."

"So you don't have much to do during the day then?" Tara asked hopefully she could draw him into continuing a conversation with her. He made some sort of noise that was probably a negative. "What do you do during the day instead?" Tara asked with a smile.

He stared at her, becoming decidedly unnerved at her determination to converse with him, to make pleasent and polite conversation as though she wasn't lying on his bed in an underground, forbidding-looking room, with severe injuries that might or might not kill her from the infections. "You should rest..." he said slowly.

"I am," she replied. He stared at her, uncertain how to respond after nine years of being a reclusive old curmudgeon even before being thrust 227 years into the future. "Oh...Sorry." Tara said realizing that 'You should rest' probably was more a hint to leave him alone. 

"How old are you?" he asked suddenly, his expression changing to... something.

"A little over 20," she said pleasantly surprised that he had asked her a question. 

"Ah." Something very like anguish passed over his face and was gone, squashed out of existance. "My daughter would have been very near your age..." this time he trailed off into silence.

Tara's face fell. Well, that had been....horribly devastating. Wow....maybe she should leave off attempting conversations. "I...I'm sorry....."

He stood abruptly, crossing over to her with the chair in hand, and sat down next to the bed. She looked up at him quizzically but relieved that he wasn't angry with her for bringing back painful memories. She frowned sadly trying to think of something even remotely comforting to say.

He watched her, made a move almost like he was going to pat her hand or something. Then he pulled back. "You should rest," he said again.

Tara nodded and winced. Yeah, resting would be a good thing. She tried to shake off feelings of guilt as she yawned and curled up against her pillow. He thought of something, seemed to think better of it, then rethought that and tucked her in. Then he settled back in his chair, thoughtful. Just as Tara was about to sleep she heard his voice, almost rusty-sounding with disuse. "Eeval from the Grey Rock comes To wrap the world in thrall.A lyan van o, my child, my joy, My love and heart's desire.The crickets sing you lullaby Beside the dying fire..."

She smiled softly and began to doze off.

She was asleep after the second verse but he kept singing, softly, watching her. It had been long enough since he'd sung any lullabys that he was very surprised he remembered them at all. After the last of the verses he knew he lapsed into silence, and kept watch.

Sahjan scowled from the corner in which he had been sulking and viewing this exchange. Either the girl left soon or he was going to get rid of her while Holtz was away. He made a disgusted face before turning to leave. 


	4. Enjoy the Silence

**Uninvited: (Part 4)**  
by You-Know-Who and Drucilla  


Disclaimer: Holtz and Tara aren't ours. We wish they were. You know this. We know this. Please don't sue us or beat us in the head for such strangeness as the whole thing between the two of them. With the stuff. 

Tara was rather relieved when her fever broke and her injuries began to recover. She wondered how much time she had spent down here. Her job was definitely gone by this point. However, being able to overcome her illness gave her more time however to focus on the abyssmal living conditions of Holtz. Whoever or whatever he was or had been, nothing about him could be helped by living in the underground crypt that he did. Even Spike had better surroundings than this. And he really did live in a crypt.

She shrugged and decided that since she had nothing else to do for the time being and truthfully was in no real hurry to get back to dealing with LA, to clean the place up a bit. If nothing else she didn't know where she was, or how to get out of there. While she had the feeling that Holtz would be pleased to see her go, assuming she was recovered enough to do so, she wasn't sure the demon shared the sentiment.

She focused on cleaning rather than nervousness. She had to do something at least in return for him saving her life, or at least felt she ought to. She worked on cleaning perhaps longer than she should have more as a result of having nothing else to do than anything else. Not condusive to her recovery, but she didn't really notice how of a strain cleaning was until afterwards.

It wasn't even like there was much TO clean. The man could have given a monk lessons in asceticism. Weapons, a computer she didn't think he actually touched, television sets. A bed. A few chairs. The remainder of some food.

She sighed and staggered back to her bed. Did he ever get lonely? That demon couldn't be much company. How could he possibly enjoy this barren place. Not to mention the food he ate. He was bound to keel over and die from eating so many hamburgers. He didn't seem to care, but honestly.

She sighed, gave up and admitted it to herself. He might not have been lonely, but she was. A silent, bitter old man who killed vampires for a living wasn't much company, and her only other choice was the demon. Considering all his unpleasant scowling, she didn't think he was interested in keeping her company so much as killing her. There weren't even any books to read down there.

The few times she'd managed to pry conversation out of Holtz since that one disastrous attempt, he'd assured her that she would be fine in another couple of weeks. Well, that time was almost up now. Which partly made her happy...but...at the same time, even Holtz was more charitable then the people were where she worked and lived.

Tara sighed. She had no idea what she wanted. She wanted to go back to Sunnydale, but that would mean facing the Scoobies again and after Willow, after her disappearing like that, she wasn't sure she wanted to face them again. And on a more practical note, she wasn't sure she had the money anymore. Come to think of it, she didn't have any money....Great. So not only was she dependant on the mysterious Holtz to take care of her, fix her up, she was dependant on him and the demon for food, and a roof over her head. This was bad, very bad.

She groaned and collapsed onto the bed. None of these were really choices at all. So much for ever being normal. She thought maybe it would have been better if she _had_ turned into a demon on her 20th birthday. Or just about anything else for that matter. As it was, she was useless....

***

Sahjhan was beginning to wonder why he even bothered wasting his time with Holtz. The man was supposed to have killed Angel weeks ago. Instead he sat around staring at the girl. That was really productive. What part of no mercy was being lost on the guy? He figured it was something stupid and sentimental like the girl looking like Holtz's dead daughter, but really. That should have just made the man more inclined to kill Angel, not less. "So.....about the girl?" He began trying to tone down his irritation.

"What about her?" Holtz asked indifferently. As though he hadn't spent most of the hours he should have been reviewing Angel, or better yet, killing Angel, staring at the girl and bathing her wounds or something stupid like that.

"She's better now isn't she?" The demon said crossing his arms. 

"She's still very weak," Holtz said, as though that ended the issue. "She needs time to rest." In pieces, Sahjan thought to himself.

"You've been saying that for the past three weeks," the demon said, forcing a calm tone. "Maybe we should just take her to a hospital."

"Would taking her to a hospital cause uncomfortable questions to be asked?" Holtz asked pointedly. "Considering I don't exactly know what the thing is..."

"Okay. I'll give you that, but still.....She's fine now," The demon replied shrugging.

"She is far from fine," Holtz said acidly. "She is still recovering from the fever from her wounds, her chest is still healing from the broken ribs, and she cannot move around for more than an hour without becoming tired and nauseous. She can stay where she is as long as she needs to. She's doing no harm."

"She is a nuisance," the demon retorted.

"_You_ might find her a nuisance. I find her company... pleasent."

"What?" Sahjan was flabbergasted. "Pleasant?"

Holtz hid the smirk. It had been worth it just to hear that tone from the demon. He did find her company pleasent, and he'd been mildly surprised to realize it; it had been a very long time since he'd felt anything in the company of others. But more than that, it annoyed the demon who, Holtz was sure, thought of him as only a tool. And a rather defective one at that. "Yes."

"I....I'm going away now," Sahjan said appalled. "You be delusional on your own time. Just kill Angel soon." Holtz actually chuckled at that. Sahjahn sighed and walked away. 

Holtz went into the underground chamber, still smiling slightly. It was a small victory over the demon, but a victory nonetheless. The demon might have given him what he wanted, but he would take it on his own terms. He walked in... and stopped. And stared.

After relaxing for awhile, Tara had gone back to cleaning what little there was to clean. She didn't notice him right away and continued cleaning humming to herself.

"Tara..." he said quietly. "What are you doing?"

She looked up smiling softly. "Just cleaning a little....."

"But... there's nothing to clean."

"Yeah," she said sheepishly. "So I've been noticing." He stared at her, utterly flabbergasted and feeling rather confused and poleaxed. Tara chuckled. "Would it help if I said I was sorry and that it will never happen again?" He just kept staring, not... really sure how to deal with her. Tara smiled brightly. "Didn't think so." His mouth twitched upwards slightly in what looked like it was trying to be a smile.

She yawned softly covering her mouth with her hand. She was getting tired of being tired. Holtz stepped forward, ready to catch her if she keeled over. "You should...." "Rest?" she finished helpfully. He nodded. She chuckled. "Probably."

"Would you sing for me again?" she asked brightly. He had to fight to keep from gaping obviously. This girl either was incredibly brave or incredibly stupid... or she had just gotten used to him. He wasn't sure which. She flushed. "Sorry."

Now he wanted to apologize, for making her feel as though she should apologize. He wondered briefly why, confused and a bit annoyed. He supposed it was simply that she needed to be cared for, still. And he hadn't had to look after anyone but himself in so long...

Tara was a bit confused as well and debated going off to bed but was too uncertain to actually do so.

Holtz leaned against a convenient pillar, scowling at the unoffending stone. He didn't need these complications, despite his irritating words to the demon. He didn't need anyone to have to care for, or anyone to care for him. 

"Ummm....." Tara said timidly. "It's okay...." Holtz muttered something that could have been a "yes" or a "no" or a "sod off" for all she knew. She turned around and walked back to her bed feeling a bit hurt and unsure why exactly. Holtz continued to lean against the piller and scowl at it. Perhaps she should have concentrated more on walking than feeling miserable, she thought as she tripped while walking away. She went sprawling, falling hard onto the ground. She groaned unhappily after falling and blinked surprised to find her eyes watering. Great. Just what she needed. Hands fell lightly on her shoulders, steadying her. She sighed. "Now I really am sorry..." She really was absolutely useless....

He made an exasperated noise and picked her up, easily as he might pick up a doll and gently as she could have wanted. She blinked a bit and sniffled softly. No wonder he was fed up with her. He laid her gently down on the bed, pulling the covers back over her and tucking her in like a small child. The expression on his face suggested that he'd half-forgotten she wasn't a small child: scolding, exasperated, and affectionate all at the same time, all hidden behind a thin veneer of indifference.

She wiped at her eyes feeling incredibly stupid and resisted the urge to apologize again which she had been doing a lot lately....He tucked the covers up around her chin, smoothed her hair over the pillow awkwardly. It was as though he was treating her as a small child because he didn't know how else to handle the situation. Tara felt oddly comforted by this and curled up against the head of the bed. After a little while he did start to sing a lullabye, albeit hesitantly, as though unsure treating her like a child was really the prudent thing to do.

Tara relaxed and hugged her pillow sighing softly. She enjoyed the singing but it was more the company that he was that made her feel better. And he was good company when he was tucking her in at night. She wished he could be like this during the day, but he did the best he could....and she wondered briefly why that mattered....

Holtz stared down at the girl curled up in the bed, still singing softly but now more by habit than by concentration. Again the thought crossed his mind that she would have been five or six years older... he pushed the thought away. He wondered why she'd been tidying... tidying. Of all things. What was the point of tidying something like this tomb? But she'd seemed more healthy, more happy when she'd been up and about and even doing small cleaning chores than she had all in the past weeks... and then he wondered why her happiness should matter...

Tara closed her eyes and dozed off determined to be more useful the following day.

Holtz watched her for a bit and then stood up, turning to pace through the rooms that now suddenly felt like a dungeon, determined not to let this resurgence of feeling stand in his way.


	5. Heart and Shoulder

**Uninvited: Heart and Shoulder**  


by You-Know-Who and DrucillaDisclaimer: Do we even need to say it again? _"I'm trying hard to be your tower of strength   
I'm trying hard to bring you back to joy   
I'll give you my heart   
Give you my shoulder   
I give you my heart   
Give you my shoulder   
When the night just cuts you through   
And the dream is lost to you   
When you're worried and confused"   
-- Heather Nova, "Heart and Shoulder"_

Now that she was getting better, Tara was growing more.....well..bored wasn't the right word..... She found herself feeling a bit more lonely. She wished she could get more conversation out of Holtz....though she wasn't completely sure why. Not to mention that there really was nothing to clean...

Really, her problem was that there was nothing to do here, she was all but healed, and she had no company. She needed to get out, find a new job and a new apartment... all of which were much easier said than done with no money. And she had the sinking suspicion she'd be more lonely in an apartment that she even was in the tomb where she was currently staying. How depressing.....

Holtz (what kind of a name was Holtz, anyway? Was that a first name? A last name? An only name, like Sting or Cher?) was the best company she'd found in LA so far, though she had to think a bit to figure out why. If nothing else, he was considerbly nicer than the men she had encountered her so far...and....although monosyllabic for the most part, he did talk to her occasionally... Still at least, he was there. At least he was around. She really missed Dawn, Willow, and the Scooby gang.... What was she going to do with no one and nothing? She was not looking forward to that either. It was a lose-lose situation no matter what happened.

He wasn't mean, she realized after a while, or cruel or petty. He was just indifferent. And tired, she thought. He had that same sort of indifference that Buffy had had, and Giles, after they'd all had a particularly rough week. The kind of tired you got from seeing and doing too much. Seeing too many people close to you die. 

Tara sighed. There wasn't much she could do anyway, until he came back. He knew the way out of the underground rooms, and she didn't. Inevitably, he would get rid of her. She was a freeloader and had done nothing really to make keeping her around worthwhile. She curled up on the bed. She really didn't want to go back to Sunnydale and try to make things the way they had been.. before....

She didn't notice he was there until his shadow was falling across her face. He'd walked up silently, the way he did when he wasn't paying attention. She was a bit startled but hid it well and concentrated on the stone pillar near the bed.

"You should go back to your family," he told her with no preamble whatsoever. "They'll be worried about you by now."

Tara sighed heavily. Family? What family? No one was probably worried about her either... "I...I don't really have one, but...."

He blinked. That hadn't been the expected response. "Your guardian, then..." She shook her head.

"I don't really have a guardian either."

"Husband?" he asked tentatively. She seemed a bit young, but....

Tara chuckled. "No....I don't really have anyone...at the moment..."

This really genuinely seemed to confuse him. "But... how... where do you live? With whom do you stay?" He sounded concerned, the first emotion she'd heard in his voice in... ever.

"I....Well, my friends...I left..because...it was better that way. And...I don't really have anything...not even extra clothes anymore. And no job yet, but...I'll get one..." She said trying to be optimistic.

Holtz frowned. This wasn't the way things worked. At least, it wasn't the way things used to work. Not everything had changed for the better in 227 years. "You live alone... no family? No one...? In this entire... city?" He frowned even more. "If you leave here... where will you go?"

"No," she said softly. "Umm....well, I'll find a job and...ummm...I'll find somewhere to stay for....I really don't know..." She concluded miserably. "I should have planned this much better than I did," she said attempting to make light of the situation and failing oh so miserably..

"You have nowhere to stay, no place of employment, no friends or relatives with whom you can stay," he repeated bluntly, his voice back to the usual expressionless tone she'd grown used to.

"No," she said timidly. He walked around to face her and stared at her with intense scrutiny. Tara blinked and met his gaze briefly before looking down at the floor. He watched her, seeming to assess her down to her soul and her bare feet. Finally he sighed. 

"Well, there's no other way, then..."

She waited uncertainly....unsure what would be worse....and...not wanting to impose on him... or..to be kicked out by him. She wasn't sure what she wanted anymore. She closed her eyes and waited for him to finish.

"... if you've nowhere else to go I suppose you'll have to stay here." He turned around and walked over to the desk, staring at the computer for several minutes before shaking his head and stepping back from it.

Tara blinked and cried silently....Why was he....."T-thank you," she said shakily closing her eyes again.

He didn't move. Standing over at another end of the room seemed like the safer option for him at the moment. 

She calmed down after a few minutes and wiped at her eyes... "I...I'll still find a job and then I can pay you or something...or..leave or..whatever you want me to do...I can clean or cook or...."

He held up a hand to stop the torrent of words that was threatening to drown his sensibilities. "We'll... discuss it later." He walked a little further away, hunching over in on himself even more so than usual.

Tara nodded wiping at her eyes again. "I'm sorry...just.....I..I really...I'm really grateful." He nodded slowly, still not turning around or saying anything. "And I'll come up with things to say other than 'I'm sorry' and 'Thank you.' I promise," she said managing a weak smile.

He actually chuckled at that, straightening up a little. It was a rusty chuckle; he hadn't had anything to laugh at in years. But she was so earnest, so ... open, eager, and _young_, that he couldn't help but smile. She smiled back brightly, unspoken gratitude still shining in her eyes. She really had to repay him for this...somehow.

***

Tara grew a bit worried in addition to confused as he grew more withdrawn. Tara grew a bit worried in addition to confused as he grew more quiet. She watched him uncertainly trying to control her aggitation, but finding it difficult. Was he unhappy that she was staying? She didn't have to stay if that was the case.

Not that she really knew where she'd go, but she could find somewhere. There was always somewhere, battered women's shelter or something. With her scars, she could certainly claim someone had beaten her up. Or maybe even a shelter... she thought of the sorts that usually stayed there and shivered. She sat down on the bed unsure what to say....

Holtz was sitting in front of the television screens, staring at them. This time the theme seemed to be bad evening teen drama shows. She recognized a few of them... Dawson's Creek, Charmed. She looked over at him hesitantly...How could...he watch that? At least that was amusing....not reassuring but amusing. He didn't seem to be amused by it though. If anything he looked vaguely horrified and sickened, inasmuch as any expression ever crossed his face. Tara frowned. Maybe he was....sick..or....just sad. She frowned feeling like she'd been rather selfish. "Are...are you okay?" she asked gently.

He kept staring at the television screens. "How do you live like this?" he asked after a long while. "Is this what the world has come to, now?"

Tara was a bit confused but more concerned with how sad he seemed. Relatively speaking of course. "I...Some of us try not to. Those...are just...terrible programs. They're not that true to life."

He was silent for a long while. "The world has changed... a great deal. While I slept." He kept watching the programs, marathon long sessions of the stupid things, it looked like. Or maybe just video tapes. 

Tara wondered if he would continue, but tried to piece together what he meant on her own.... "I....Will..you be all right though?" she asked in a concerned tone of voice. That actually did make him glance around at her, confused. "I...I know it's probably not any of my business....but....if there's anything..I could do...." Tara trailed off.

He sighed heavily and turned back to the television screens. "The world became this way over two centuries. Nothing you could do would change it now." His voice was dry, cynical, and extremely bitter.

Tara was tempted to give him a hug, but instead softly walked over to where he was. She hesitated momentraily, then tentatively and very lightly placed her hand over his...unsure what else to say...or what to do. He blinked a second, stared up at her, confused and almost indignant, though his eyes remained sad... and old.

She gulped softly but....he looked so lonely. She sat down next to his chair and leaned against the arm of it keeping her hand on his. He sighed, passing his free hand over his eyes in a gesture of weariness. He did leave his hand in hers, though whether he took comfort in it was anyone's guess. "Your world is so different..." he said softly, possibly not meaning for her to hear.

Tara's eyes shimmered as she tried to think of something to do for him. "I....I'm sorry...." Great...back to that line again.

He patted her hand in a vaguely fatherly way. "You are not responsible for everything in the world. Don't be sorry."

"Still...." Tara said....trying to come up with something comforting.... He shrugged, withdrawing back into himself. The sitcoms kept playing on the screens, showing all the teenagers having rampant sex with each other, rape, teen pregnancy, drugs, car accidents. Angst, angst, angst. Neglectful mothers, dead-beat and alcoholic fathers... "You shouldn't watch this," Tara said softly. "It won't help..."

Holtz gave a dry chuckle, without any humor in it. "Sahjhan recommended I accustom myself to the world as it is today. Apparently these... " he gestured at the wall of televisions "things are stories told from life, like books or the theater...." he trailed off, as though the conclusion should be obvious.

"He's a demon. He wants you to be miserable," Tara said unhappily. "And he's doing a good job of it too."

This time he did laugh, a hollow and empty laugh. "That... was not that particular demon's doing."

Tara looked confused and very sad. "Oh.....but....you can't dwell on this forever. You should...try to be happy...I said the wrong thing again, didn't I?" Tara said miserably moving her hand away from his. She wondered why he even was letting her stay.

He turned and stared at her, puzzled. "Now, why the concern?"

Tara blinked a bit startled. "I....You..looked like you needed....some...I don't know....but you looked...sad..."

He stared at her for a bit more, and then he actually smiled a bit, sadly but vaguely amused. "You have a charitable heart," he said softly, almost more to himself than anything.

Tara flushed. "I....Well, it's the least I can do....you've been very kind to me...." He made a noncommittal shrug, said nothing. Emotions, it seemed, were either alien to him or very rusty with disuse. She placed her hand back on his and smiled sadly studying his features rather than looking at the television screen. He was probably old enough to be her father, but the way he acted... so out of place with the world... made him seem almost childlike. He was amazed at things she took for granted, like the shows of iniquity that were teen dramas, or the coldness and loneliness of being on one's own in LA.

She resolved that she would have to find a way to introduce him to happier things...what few there were. He really needed some semblance of happiness in his life. One of the screens flickered and went dark. Another one changed programs after a few minutes. Dawson's Creek became 7th Heaven, and early episodes of it, too. Back when it was practically beating the viewer over the head with good Christian family values.

Tara shuddered. "You really don't want to watch this show. It's corny and hokey. Not to mention disgustingly...bleech.... Trust me...it's horrible." He blinked and gave her an odd, uncomprehending look. She would have sworn he was mouthing the words back at her as though he didn't understand what they meant. "Ummm....." Tara looked confused.. "Well...I mean, it's all sickeningly sweet and cliche."

Loud noises from the televisions distracted him. It looked like one of the standard cliche plots: child in danger, big family drama. Lots of crying and hugging. Tara sighed. "Told you so." Holtz didn't say anything, only made some sort of choked-off noise that might have been a laugh or a sob. Tara really wanted to give him a hug.....

He stood up abruptly, shoving the chair back and turning off the televisions with a violent jab of the buttons. He started stalking to the opposite side of the room, slowing down as he reached a piller, stopping and staring at it for a second before slamming it hard with a fist. He seemed to have forgotten she was there entirely. Tara backed off a bit startled and looked after him worriedly before moving over towards him slowly.

Holtz just stood there, leaning against the pillar, not moving. Uncertainly and hesitantly, she placed her hand on his fist and gave him a loose hug...unsure how he would react. She remained the way she was, unsure what to do.... After a while she began to hum softly. Lullabyes, she was starting to think, solved everything.

She let her voice trail off after a few verses wishing she could think of a better solution than apologizing and singing... After a short while he patted her hand absently, and walked a little ways away. She looked off after him sadly. She wondered if the demon was responsible for his unhappiness..or who the other demon he had mentioned briefly was. "Is there anything else I can do?" she asked in a voice slightly above a whisper.

"I'm afraid not," he said, in a voice choked with more emotion than she'd seen in him in all the time she'd spent in his company lumped together.

"I wish there was," she said gently feeling terrible for him. He really didn't deserve to be miserable. He shuddered slightly, then straightened up, seeming to pull himself together. She kept an eye on him but moved back slightly to allow him more space. He had been so kind to her though. She really hoped she could repay him.....perhaps this was her chance...

After a short moment he turned back to her, his mouth quirked up in what might actually have been a smile. She didn't think she'd ever seen him smile before. "You'll make a beautiful mother, someday. You worry so unobtrusively."

She smiled back flushing slightly. "Well, you were so kind to me, it's the least I can do.....and...." She shrugged not sure what she had been going to add. He tipped his head to one side questioningly, waiting for her 'and.' "I haven't had anyone to worry about lately," she added after he looked at her.

This time she was fairly sure he smiled, but it was gone quickly. "And you need someone to worry about?"

She smiled. "It's nice to have someone to worry about...."

He frowned slightly, and then his expression cleared as he understood what she meant. His eyes grew distant again, and sad. "Yes..." he said quietly. "I suppose it is." He stood there for another few moments and then went to the weapons chest, starting to take weapons out of it, preparing for the usual nightly routine.

Tara watched him do so though she was not big on weapons and wasn't sure that going vampire hunting was such a good idea. Maybe after she found a job and such she could get him to take night off from the slaying. He probably could use it. His movements were quick, sharp. She wasn't sure if he was angry or just upset. "Are you sure you're up to that tonight?" She asked hesitantly.

He looked back at her. The vaguely-grumpy expressionless mask was back on, and no trace of the vulnerable, tired old man was there at all anymore. "Why?"

"I.....It....just seems...like....I mean....maybe you should....." He waited for her to spit it out. "Relax...or something..." 

He stared at her for a bit, then walked out, saying something that sounded vaguely like "I have work to do." or something equally Batman-esque. Tara sighed. She hadn't expected anything else from him...Buffy never relaxed either. Especially not when her emotional life was all messy. She supposed she shouldn't have expected Holtz to do anything different. She could try again some other night. She wasn't sure what, or how, or why she was going to try, but she was going to. She knew that much.


	6. Defender of the Child

**Uninvited: Defender of the Child**  
by You-Know-Who and Drucilla

Disclaimer: Yeah, they're still not ours, and we still wish they were. The lyrics aren't ours either, as far as we know they belong to Mercedes Lackey. Pretty song, very Holtz. Anyway... please read, please review, please enjoy. And no, it's still not what you think.

_"Another friend  
This means that the blood will fall  
Can it not end  
Why should I try having love at all  
Sword is drawn, you take that stand  
Soon you'll sever friendship's hand  
Added to the bodies piled  
Defender of the child!"  
-- Mercedes Lackey, "Defender of the Child"_

Tara had found a rather disgusting job as a waitress at a small restaurant not to far away from Holtz's crypt. She hated it there, but at least she was able to be some semblance of useful. She was also able to get some furnishings for where she was living with the money. She'd decided to call it a crypt, because it really was... but that didn't mean it had to be entirely uninhabitable. She was able to buy a decent bed from a second hand store as she didn't want to leave him with nowhere to sleep. She felt a bit awkward about buying a bed for someone else's house, especially a man, especially a man old enough to be her father, but she comforted herself with the fact that it was a twin bed, and the only way someone would be sharing it would be if they really didn't mind being hideously uncomfortable. And besides, it wasn't a house, it was a crypt. Dammit.

She had also bought a small rug. Hey, it was a step in the right direction. And besides, then the floor wouldn't be so cold in the mornings. Sometimes, despite the fact that it was LA and supposed to be nice-temperatured all year round, she would have sworn that it was winter just in that one room just to bother her.

She rather cheerfully set up the bed and rug after work. Lamps had also been rather nessecary considering how dark it was down there. She had bought some cheap books as well needing something to do when Holtz was monosyllabic.For a quarter, though they were well worth it considering her financial situation. Besides, having a lamp to read by was a good first step in being able to read a book.

He didn't seem to notice, though, when he came downstairs after an absence of roughtly 20 hours, looking exhausted, roughed-up, and frustrated.She looked up from a particularly trashy novel and frowned. He really did work too hard. He stripped off his jacket, practically dumped the weapons into the chest with the barest consideration for weapons etiquette, and sank heavily into a chair. She set the book down on her bed and looked over at him. "Hard day?"

He made a grunting noise of assent, then blinked and seemed to remember that she was there. He looked over at her... and noticed the furniture for the first time, and looked around wildly as though it was going to bite him.

"Umm....I thought I should probably get a bed so I didn't have to use yours," she said brightly. At least he'd get a good night's sleep now. Maybe. He seemed to have an inordinate amount of nightmares, though he never, ever acknowledged that they existed."And...I thought a lamp or two would be nice. It's kinda dark in here," she added.

He stared at her like she'd grown a second head. "......." She grinned sheepishly. "You might not think so, but I didn't want to read by candlelight."

He looked around. "And the carpet?"

"So my feet don't get cold," she said smiling.

"Ah....." he nodded slowly, still completely flabbergasted and perplexed.

"I hope you don't mind," she said resisting the urge to chuckle at his facial expression. He shook his head dumbly. "Okay," she said going back to her romance novel. He just kept staring at her, not sure at all what to do with her now. Tara put the book down again and looked over at him. "Are...you okay?"

"Yes..." he said almost automatically, or too quickly. "Of course..."

"You wouldn't tell me otherwise anyway though," Tara pointed out.

He blinked at her. For some reason, he didn't look like he'd expected her to figure that part out.

"I could make you some tea," Tara offered. He kept staring, surprise growing ever more evident. It didn't even seem to be displeased surprise. He just looked like he hadn't expected her to become domestic, abruptly. Tara cocked her head. "Or not...."

He finally snapped out of it, blinking a great deal as if to clear his eyes. "Oh... tea... yes, that would be.. nice. Thank you."

Tara nodded and set her book down on the bed before going off to get tea. She had a cup after work and that had been nice. His job was probably more stressful but...like so many things a cup of tea was a move in the right direction. Direction of what, she wasn't sure. But hey. She set the kettle to boil and rummaged around for some tea bags. Despite her reservations about the demon, she was glad he was good at grocery shopping.

Holtz watched her with a peculiar set of expressions on his face. Confusion warred with amusement, both of them battling belligerence and something tentative she couldn't quite figure out.

She hummed waiting for the water to boil a bit impatiently. Behind her, Holtz stood up, slowly walking the length of the room. He looked as though he was getting used to the new configuration, maybe in case he had to fight in it, or maybe just getting used to things like a normal human being.

She quietly sang "Greenselves" to herself seeing as he seemed to like older songs....well, older things in general. She imagined she'd figure out just what was up with that more clearly as time went by. After a little while, more to himself, he began to hum along with her and then, slowly and very softly, to sing. He didn't actually have that bad a voice; it was quite pleasent. Comforting. She began to do the countermelody as he began to sing it softly. As he realized what she was doing, he began to sing slightly louder, for her as well as for himself.

Tara sang slightly louder as well and jumped a bit startled when the tea kettle began to make a high pitched whine. Holtz stopped singing altogether. She took the tea kettle off the stove and filled the two cups she had set aside with water.

She handed him one of the cup and added some honey to her's. He murmured thanks to her as he took the cup, careful with his fingertips and the hot cup. She sat down at the small table and waited for her tea to cool down. He watched her over the brim of his cup, more settled, now. She smiled down at her tea cup. She wondered why he looked at her so much. 

After he ascertained that she probably wasn't going to pull any more surprises out of her hat, he began to carefully sip the tea. Tara sipped at hers as well after awhile, bemused.

After a while it cooled enough that he could actually taste it, and he made a pleasently surprised face at the taste. "Good..." he said quietly, drinking in the tea with a soothed, calmed expression on his face. His eyes were starting to drift closed.

Tara smiled and finished drinking hers. She felt better in general and began thinking about what else to get for the crypt. Tara nodded. "You should go sleep," she suggested picking up his cup and hers, moving to the sink to rinse them off.

He startled, waking up abruptly. "I'm n..." he started to protest, then blinked abruptly as he realized what he was about to say. Tara chuckled. He scowled at her. "You're too good at that."

She chuckled some more. "Sorry." He shook his head and sank further into his chair, almost sulking. After a while though, he did start to nod off. She coughed. "Ahem...sleep. You can even use your bed." 

He blinked at her. He was so tired he didn't even realize he was half asleep. "Mmm?"

She shooked her head amusedly. "You need to sleep." She got up and went over to help him out of the chair. He made some sort of growling comment at her and jerked away. At least, he tried to jerk away. It was more of a limp tug. Tara moved back a bit startled. "Okay....sleep here then."

He half-heartedly glared at her, a glare that was muted by the fact that he couldn't keep his eyes opened. She thought he was trying to say something derisive, but the first part didn't come out at all and the second part was something that sounded like. "...haven't needed a mother for 25 years." She thought. He was slurring, he was so tired.

Tara shook her head. "No, but you could use some sleep."

"'m fine..." he yawned in the middle of the sentence, which completely ruined the effect. This in fact made him so irritated that he sprang up out of his chair and attempted to stride grumpily around the room. 

Tara covered her mouth with her hands and attempted to conceal a giggle. He glared at her tiredly, but was starting to acknowledge that it was a losing battle. Clearly, however, his male dignity was protesting strenuously at being mothered by a young woman.

"We can make a deal," Tara said trying not to smirk. "You sleep, I leave you alone."

He sighed. "I am an adult, you know. I can put myself to bed."

"I know, so go to sleep," Tara said attempting to not look amused.

He started to retort, stopped, thought about it, and settled for glaring, knowing that she was right and he was being childish. Tara chuckled. "I offered to leave you alone." He made a vague sort of grumpy noise at her, entirely unsure how to react to a young woman who was mothering him kindly and determinedly. Tara snorted in amusement. "Go. Sleep. Please?"

"You're not too old to put across my knee, you know," he commented grumpily, throwing his coat over the chair and making his way over to the bed. Slowly, making a point.

"True, but this changes nothing," Tara said folding her arms as she followed him still amused.

"Are you going to tuck me in, now?" he grumped at her. His tone, though, was changing from decidedly displeased to wryly accepting.

If you like," Tara said beaming up at him ingratiatingly.

He was seated on the bed and about to lay down when she said that, and stared at her incredulously. "You wouldn't...."

Tara grinned. "Oh wouldn't I?"

He started to shake his head, and then he actually saw her expression. He lay back on the bed slowly, almost looking as though he were afraid she was going to attack him with kindness."I.... I'm not sure."

Tara giggled. "I think I will." She began to tuck him in. He stared at her, nearly cringing back from her hands, utterly incredulous. Tara cocked her head questioning. "What?"

"You... you're..." he actually seemed afraid of her, though there was no discernible reason why. She frowned, afraid she was doing something wrong, but waited to see if he would end the sentence. "Why....?" he asked finally, his face clouding back over with the usual lack of expression as he practically burrowed under the covers.

"Because, you tucked me in," Tara said softly.

He sighed, giving up or giving in, and just lay back and closed his eyes, tacitly surrendering. Tara wasn't sure if he would be happy if she sang so she decided not to.... "Sweet dreams," she said sweetly. He muttered something that sounded vaguely rude and definitely sleepy. After a while his breathing evened out, his posture relaxed into sleep.

Tara hesitantly went over to her bed and picked back up the silly novel she had been reading trying to puzzle out what all that had meant. After a while, he began to twitch slightly, muttering agitatedly as he usually did. Nightmares, she'd guessed. Tara put the book down and went over to his bed. Yeah, it probably would tick him off...but... She began singing "Scarborough Faire" in a soft, soothing voice. It actually seemed to have an effect. Slowly, he stopped muttering, stopped twitching, and eventually lay quiet. She sang as many verses that she knew and when he seemed to drift off, she went back to her bed silently.

No sooner had she gotten back to her bed and gotten settled when he started writhing again, more so than she'd gotten used to seeing. It looked as though he were almost battling someone. She caught a few words, mostly protestations and denials... and then a loud, anguished scream of rage as he sat up so violently he nearly fell off the bed entirely.

She gasped and raced back to the bed to see if she could help him at all. How awful! He didn't deserve this at all.... He'd woken up, pale and shaking, and was staring around as though he had no idea where he was or who she was. She wrung her hands trying to figure out what was wrong. She sat down tentatively at the end of the bed.

He looked around wildly, his eyes finally coming to rest on her with a slowly-clearing expression. He looked as though he were trying to return to the usual stern emotionless facade (it was a facade, she was rapidly realizing) he maintained around her, but was failing miserably. His eyes were so sad... but he was slowly winning the struggle to maintain control, to stay calm and ice cold.

She looked at him wishing there was something she could do to help. She began singing a soothing lullaby hoping it would help him even if he was trying to hide his pain. He stared at her sharply, with mingled disgust and annoyance... and relief and gratitude. She continued to remain troubled and concerned as she sang. After a short while annoyance and stubborn refusal to acknowledge a connection to anyone won out. He turned away from her and lay back down.

She let her voice trail off and got off the bed returning to her own miserably. She turned off the lamp next to her bed, set her book on the floor and got ready to go to sleep herself. If he wanted to be alone, she decided, she'd leave him alone....for now. She felt his eyes on her back for a long time, though, before he finally slept.

She found it hard to go to sleep at all even after he fell asleep.....unsure what to do or if she was the problem. He needed to pursue more pleasant interests, she determined. She'd have to find a way to cheer him up so he wouldn't be in so much pain. She also, she decided suddenly, should find out if he had more of a name than just... "Holtz." It sounded so... so much like a hitman and he wasn't just a vampire slayer. Maybe that was the biggest problem... except that if he had personal reasons for devoting his life to dusting the undead...which she understood.... but.....oh well...he needed a friend if nothing else...even if he didn't think he did.

She sighed and curled up under her own covers, listening to him toss and turn. She missed Willow suddenly, missed having someone to hold her at night and be brave for her. Now that she was suddenly thrust into the position, not of mothering people because she'd done that all the time for the Scoobies, but of being brave... now that she had to be the brave one, she wasn't liking it at all.

She miserably supposed she'd have to get used to it...She could be brave...but it made her feel so lonely....If only Willow hadn't been so... well, stupid, Tara was forced to admit. She'd been arrogant, and she'd been stupid. Tara'd seen the consequences of excessive uses of magic, over and over again she'd seen them. And yeah, maybe she was a bit paranoid about using magic because of it, but that didn't mean Willow had to try and compensate for it. And then Willow had taken away her memories and nearly everyone else's. She was so selfish sometimes. She.....Tara missed her....but...what else had she been supposed to do besides leave?

She needed to get over Willow. Find some other nice woman her age. Only... she had no idea how to go about looking. She needed something she could rely on more than anything else. Some semblance of security....which is why she had left...and now...well, she didn't quite know where she was at, but she had definitely taken a different route than she had intended.... 

She sighed. She wouldn't meet anyone nice where she worked. Maybe she should go out to a club or something. At any rate ... then again, considering some of the people at the few clubs she'd been to... maybe the bookstores. Or some place. Somewhere. Anywhere. There had to be someone she could depend on. Willow had been her first real girlfriend, and now that she was gone, Tara missed her... but also missed having someone who was just... there.

She couldn't go back to Sunnydale....she had to make this work somehow. But right now, in the middle of the night, working at a greasy spoon with only a depressed, obssessive, nightmare-prone older man vampire hunter for company... she was so very lonely.


	7. Don't Give Up

**Uninvited: Don't Give Up**  
by You-Know-Who and Drucilla

Disclaimer: Yeah. You know the drill. Read and review, g-ddammit!

_"Don't give up  
'cause you have friends  
Don't give up  
No reason to be ashamed  
Don't give up 'cause somewhere there's a place where we belong  
Rest your head  
You worry too much  
It's going to be all right"  
-- Peter Gabriel," Don't Give Up"_

Tara couldn't believe that she was this fed up with work already. Particularly the customers. She half-heartedly took a man's order as she contemplated the miserable fate of being stuck working here forever.

Even her last job had been better than this. It had been a greasy spoon, but at least it had been a polite greasy spoon. The manager on her shift was gay and didn't hit on her (though he did tut-tut her fashion sense), the staff were all pleasently indifferent, and the customers were at least well-mannered enough not to slobber all over her apron.

Here, she was hit on right and left by the slime of the earth. Her manager being the absolute worst of the lot of them. She nimblely avoided him as she placed the order with one of the cooks. She sighed. Living with the taciturn vampire-hunter was heaven compared to this. Hell, living with the vampires would probably have been better than this. At least it'd be over quickly. She apathetically handed out food to one of her tables and longed for her shift to be over. She needed a different job desperately, but finding one in LA was much harder than in Sunnydale. She found herself missing Sunnydale even more as she moved listlessly from table to table.

She'd probably have to keep trying the bookstores, and the more upscale coffee shops. Maybe even see if there was a magic store or two around. She definitely wasn't going to settle for this job. Not even if she was paid decent wages...which come to think of it, she really wasn't. Nothing about this place was decent.

She glanced at the clock half-tempted to use a spell to make the time go by as fast as possible. She shook her head...that wouldn't make this any better really...not in the long run.... She didn't want to have to fast-forward her life all the time. And besides, that was how Willow got in trouble. There was a right way and a wrong way to use magic, and no matter what anyone else said, Tara knew that. And then suddenly she nearly dropped the tray. Holtz. She hadn't told him about her powers.

How was she going to tell him about that? Hopefully it wouldn't be too big of a deal. She handed out plates of food to tables like a mindless drone as she thought about how she would tell him, paying little to no attention to her customers other than their requests. After all, he was a vampire hunter. He was already well aware that there were things out there beyond what most people knew about. Hopefully he would be okay with it.

She was looking forward to telling him all things considered if it meant she'd be done working here for the day. She still hadn't found any other potential girlfriend at all....she could have taken her pick of the scuzzy guys however. She shuddered. Thank whomever that she was gay. It cut down a lot on the potential assholes in the dating pool.

She scowled, an expression learned from Holtz without realizing it, as she dodged yet another hand reaching out to grab her ass. Oh yeah. Definitely a change of job, and soon. She glared at the offending male and stormed off to the kitchen to take care of her other orders. Man, this job was so lousy.

"Hey, chickie," the head cook cracked his gum as he talked to her, "Betts called in sick, you'll have to work half her tables, too."

"Fine," Tara said curbing her anger and stalking off to Bett's tables and taking their orders. Just what she needed. She expended an extreme amount of will in not dropping the tray then and there and quitting. She needed this job, especially if she was going to furnish the damn crypt so that it looked more like an actual home than a dungeon. She mumbled this under her breath over and over like it was some sort of mantra as she took her orders.

"Hey there, darlin," a man said as he grabbed her free arm, his breath reeking of bad alcohol. "Come on, take a load off those pretty feet of yours, hmm?" His leer made it fairly obvious what he meant.

She wretched her arm away from him angrily. "No thanks."

He leered at her, but (fortunately for her and him both) didn't try and grab her again. "Aaw... c'mon. We could have some fun..."

"No," she said firmly fixing him with an angry glare before walking away.

"Dyke bitch," she heard him mutter. As she passed the manager she heard him say to her under his breath, "Don't be rude to the customers." She gritted her teeth and barely was able to control herself from making a comment.

The next hour or so kept her busy enough that she wasn't able to give or really pay attention to any commentary. By the time her shift was finally over, she was pissed, depressed, and homesick. She walked home, still trying to get the grease off her hands, hunched over despite the pain in her back and walking quickly despite the pain in her feet. She took a slow, long, hot shower miserably scrubbing herself as though she was obsessive-compulsive, threw on whatever clothes she found, and crawled into bed.

Holtz came home nearly two hours later, somehow managing to stomp silently in. He looked around in mild surprise before seeing her curled up on the bed, her face buried under her pillow. He watched her, trying to gauge her mood before approaching her. She remained the way she was, not really noticing him returning or caring particularly at the moment.

After a while he went over to the stove and, with some muttered commentary, managed to put on a pot of water to boil without too much confusion and hassle. From the way it sounded, she thought, you'd think the man had never used a stove before. She sighed and stretched groggily, sitting up in bed but not leaving it. Holtz was staring at the stove dubiously, like he expected it to burst into flames at any moment. She shook her head rubbing her eyes and yawning.

"Tea?" Holtz asked, not taking his eyes off the stove.

"Sure," she said with no enthusiasm whatsoever. "Or maybe a stiff drink." She folded her arms miserably and stared at the ceiling. He glanced back at her with surprise before glancing back at the stove like it was going to bite him as the kettle began to whistle. She scowled hoping she didn't have to figure it out for him...then she felt bad....and sighed but didn't move.

He seemed to have less trouble getting the kettle off the stove and the tea made. He brought her cup over, handed it to her... and then brought over a chair and sat by her, sipping at his tea and saying nothing. 

Tara set the tea down on the table next to her bed. She had bought it recently on a whim. She debated saying something mostly due to his silence. She stretched again and stared at him instead. He simply sat there, watching her and seeming to be lost in thought at the same time, sipping the tea. Chamomile, she noted absently. She sighed and sipped her tea as well working on preventing herself from scowling. The day had been awful, but she didn't want to be scowling throughout the rest of it.

Holtz set aside his tea and seemed to be thinking of something. After a moment's thought, he leaned over her after a second, picking up her hairbrush from her bedside table and beginning to brush out her hair, more gently than she ever remembered anyone doing. She was a bit confused by this at first but it was a nice distraction she supposed. She set her tea down and closed her eyes. His hands were surprisingly gentle as he teased the knots out of her hair. She sighed heavily releasing some of her pent up frustrations and placed her head on her hands as he continued.

He brushed her hair back from where it had fallen into face with improbably gentle hands, and resumed brushing her hair, finally putting it into a loose braid before sitting back in his chair. She sighed again and sank back down onto the bed giving him a weak smile of thanks.

He saluted her with his cup as he resumed the tea. Tara giggled finding that very amusing for some reason. Well, more amusing than usual. She wasn't sure, but he may have smiled back, if only briefly. She tried to curb her giggling unsucessfully and said something completely unintelligible. He arched his eyebrows at her in question. "You...and..the...tea..cup..." She giggled some more.

He just stared at her, utterly confused.... and then proceeded to sip the last of the tea from his cup.... looking utterly foppish and pretentious. Maybe he wasn't that confused after all. Tara collapsed on the bed and managed to eventually stop giggling. "Don't do that again..." she said gasping for air. He smiled slightly, behaving normally now and setting the cup aside.

She shook her head and sighed again. "I appreciate it, but...you really looked silly."

"That was the idea," he said softly, still smiling slightly.

"Oh," Tara said. "I hadn't considered that." She chuckled. "And here I thought you had no idea how absolutely ridiculous you looked," she added.

He chuckled ruefully. "Oh, I knew. I used to do that when my d...." he shut down, emotionally, as fast as someone might throw a switch, and stared at the floor between them for a few moments. Eventually he stood and took the empty cups back to the sink.

Tara's face fell. She felt much better now. Great, she thought to herself. You've made him miserable again. She felt terrible, miserable, and fed up with work. He stood there for a few minutes, leaning over the sink, not moving. She groaned and got off her bed moving over to where he was to try to be of use... He made a sort of waving motion, almost motioning her back. It was the sort of gesture that was usually accompanied by the words 'I'm fine,' which were usually a blatent lie. She ignored it and moved closer to him in an attempt to perhaps provide silent solace...or...support... He didn't move, away or towards her.

"I'm sorry about pointing out that you looked ridiculous," Tara said and then attempted to maintain a neutral face. That wasn't exactly what she had meant to say but....oh well. He chuckled, which was a sort of progress, but there wasn't any humor in it. Tara tentatively put a hand on his shoulder. He didn't move. He was so tense, hunched over and knotted up. She pursed her lips, thought it over and decided to give him a back massage. She over her other hand to his other shoulder and began to work gently on the tension in his shoulders.

At that he did move, turning and staring at her like she'd just done something vaguely indecent like run her hands up under his shirt... except that he didn't look like he was sure it was indecent. She cocked her head in innocent confusion. "Well, you seemed tense. I thought maybe a back massage would help."

"....oh," he said quietly. "I thought... I...." he shook his head slowly. "I'm still getting used to this."

Tara chuckled. "It's okay...I should have probably thought about that beforehand..." Which oddly enough reminded her that she hadn't told him about her magical abilities.....

He shook his head slowly, as it looked like something was starting to occur to him. "You haven't guessed, have you."

"Not completely, no," Tara said sheepishly.

He stared at her, trying to piece together the sense of that statement. "But you know there is something _to_ guess."

"Yes." He stared at her, clearly not sure whether or not to tell her. "Tell me?" Tara asked. Then it would be her turn....

He sighed. "I'm ... not exactly from ... around here." Tara giggled. Then she regained her composure and nodded. "I was... brought forward. Into the future. 227 years." Each word came out slightly choked, slightly strangled. It wasn't easy for him to say, evidently. She wasn't sure why.

The first thing that came to her mind other than: That's a long time was that meant...his..daughter died...a long time ago..... She nodded silently. He stared at the floor between them again, seeming to be looking at all the years he missed, the two centuries that he'd completely passed by. "I was... asleep. Or so Sahjhan says," his tone suggested he didn't completely trust the demon. "The dreams..." Tara made a small sound of sympathy and nodded having nothing to say that she thought would help him.

"I was... brought forward. To kill the demons that slaughtered my family." He practically growled the last words, clenching his hands into fists. Then, slowly, he relaxed his stance, letting his hands fall open again. Tara looked down at the floor. Wow.....that was so....sad....no wonder he was so alone.... She bit her lip, raising her eyes. She moved closer to him and took his hand in hers, squeezing it gently. She was surprised that he had trusted her with this.

He glanced at her, surprised at her concern and kindness... but grateful, too, she thought. Grateful for the simple contact of her hand holding his. She decided to tell him a little later... after all, what he had told her was...more important.

He moved slightly away from her though... more for somewhere to go, it seemed, than a need to get away from her, really. He moved like he simply needed to get away from himself, from his life, from his memories. Maybe she should tell him..just so he'd have something else to focus on..... "I....it's not very important, but....there's something I probably should tell you." And what was she going to do about telling Holtz she was a lesbian? Which also reminded her about wanting to know his first name. She sighed...wow...she really was a nuisance. He turned, stared at her dully, with haunted eyes. At least this explained why he looked so tired all the time.

"I...I could just tell you later," Tara said with sad eyes due to how unhappy he looked.

He actually made an attempt to shake off the gloom. "What is it?" he asked gently.

She sighed and used a little magic to make little lines of fire coruscate over her hands and then disappear. "I'm a witch." A lesbian witch from Hellmouth might have been a little much so she stuck with the basics for now.

If she'd been hoping to distract him, she succeeded. His eyes widened and he took a step backwards, opening his mouth to say something and then closing it again. He looked... not exactly afraid but definitely wary, and startled. And on edge.

"A good witch?," Tara added a bit sheepishly. He just stared uncomprehendingly. Wizard of Oz must have been before his time. "Well, I use...errr..magic to help people....I don't use it all the time....but....." She shrugged. He waited, slowly losing the startled edge but none of the wariness. Maybe she should tell him she was a lesbian. Then he'd forget about the past, her being a witch, and freak out. She was doing a great job making a fool of herself.

"How did you come by these powers?" he asked finally.

"My mother was a witch. It runs in the family," Tara said smiling.

"I...see," he said, clearly not seeing but willing to accept it anyway, at least for now. He looked almost relieved for some reason. Tara looked rather confused that he was relieved. Well, almost relieved... 

After a few moments more of staring at her he sighed, suddenly seeming very tired, and crossed the room over to his customary chair and flopped in it. "Would you like anything?" Tara asked looking after him as he moved to the other side of the room. He looked up at her, startled, for a second before dropping his gaze again and shaking his head wordlessly. "Okay," Tara said softly. She was tempted to push the issue but didn't. She sat down on her bed and kept an eye on him. He didn't move for a long, long time. After a while it looked as though he'd fallen asleep in the chair.

She wondered what she could do for him....but nothing came to mind. Maybe when he got up they could do do something less stressful. Like a movie or something...oh....that would probably freak him out though. Wow.....how did he deal with all of this? At least, that explained so many little things about him. Why he was freaking out over stupid teen drama shows, why he didn't know how to use a stove or anything. 

She really had to show him some pleasant examples of the modern world. His life had been filled with so much pain though....but maybe some pleasant things would do him good. Besides he couldn't just live for revenge.... Except, that seemed to be exactly what he was doing. She hadn't seen him do anything other than go out, kill vampires, and come back depressed. She wondered what they could do that would be more...more healthy....Maybe a walk for starters...without him having to worry about killing vampires. Yeah...right.... So what else? Goddess, what had his life been like before she came along? Go out, kill vampires, come back, sleep, repeat cycle tomorrow. And with only the demon for company... no wonder he acted so strangely. 

She really had to come up with something...anything at all really would probably work for now. He seemed so nice....and the way he was living was so terrible. That demon had to be up to something. She really didn't like him now....even if he did buy the groceries. Tara resolved to try and figure out what the demon was up to... and in the meantime, to try and make both their lives a little less depressing. Hmmmm.....but what to do?

Well, brightening the place up would be a start. Maybe also getting some videotapes that weren't so... bad. Maybe... oh! Shakespeare! He'd know Shakespeare... she tried to think of some film renditions that weren't too terrible. Or maybe they could go see a play of it....or.... Well, Kenneth Branaugh did good film renditions. A comedy would be much better than a tragedy all things considered so Hamlet was out. Especially since Hamlet involved young women dying. There had been a good version of Midsummer that had been released recently, maybe she could get 'hold of that.

She yawned. Now that she'd figured out a lot of stuff she was suddenly a lot less stressed... and very tired. She decided since he was sleeping anyway she'd take brief nap and then present the idea to him... Tara curled up on her bed, feeling better about things, if not completely relieved. 


	8. (Part 8)

Disclaimer: Yeah. With the not owning. And the not suing. And the not flaming. Here's more of the saga of craziness. Hope you all enjoy it. 

Gradually, things were able to fall into a nice pattern. Her job was a minor part of it and it had become easier to push it to the back of her mind when it was over. She still wasn't any closer to learning anything about her mysterious house-mate... crypt-mate, whatever... but her mere presence seemed to do something to alleviate the gloom that hung around the place.

She was thankful for that as he needed someone or something that could do that. He certainly got no companionship from the demon.... He continued hunting of course. She couldn't really say anything about that. It wasn't her place... And besides, it was kind of like living with Buffy again... she started giggling as she pictured Holtz and Buffy. They might have shared the same vampire-hunting thing, but that was definitely the _only_ similarity there. But tonight, he had been gone for a really long time. Much longer than she could recall him being absent. She found herself getting mildly worried as minutes became hours. It was entirely possible that he'd just run into a tougher cadre of vampires than usual. Or maybe he'd actually stopped to take in some modern culture. Or maybe he really was lying in a ditch somewhere. In the back of her mind she could hear Dawn saying, "Ditches are bad. My mom always used to talk about the ditches."

He better not be in ditch, she thought, frowning. She hoped he came back okay. If he was hurt, she could help him she supposed but if he was... Thinking about it was not going to help at all, she decided and looked around for a book to read to take her mind off of his absence. Hours stretched into more hours. Even she couldn't stay up waiting for him this late. The words on the page started to blur as her eyes started to drift closed. She yawned sleepily, her hand drooping causing the book to fall to the floor. She curled up on the bed hoping he came home soon. Her dreams weren't pleasent ones. Faces from her past mixed with faces from her future, all in varying stages of pain or anguish or arrogant stupidity. Tara whimpered before waking up. She staggered off to the refrigerator and began warming up some milk. Maybe that would help her get some sleep. She yawned. She hoped Holtz had some excuse for being gone this long and making her worry.

As though her thoughts had conjured him from the aether, Holtz came stomping in, much less quietly than usual. Something must have gone really horribly wrong tonight... he was arguing with the demon, loudly and angrily. She peeked out from the refrigerator wondering what exactly had happened silently cursing the demon as she did so. Whatever they were arguing about, it had to do with some vampire named Angelus. The name was familiar, she knew she'd heard it before... but she couldn't think of where. Maybe someone Buffy had fought; they hadn't talked too much about previous battles, even the ones she'd been around for. It was as though once a fight was past and an enemy vanquished, it never existed. She decided not to warm up the milk after all and rubbed her eyes wearily. 

Finally the demon left. Holtz was livid; whatever happened it must have been bad. She remained where she was, closing the refrigerator door quietly. Unfortunately, she hadn't closed it quietly enough. Or maybe she'd closed it too quietly. Whatever she'd done, he must have thought she was a vampire, because he whipped his crossbow out and shot a stake at her without a second thought. She yelped as it grazed her cheek and embedded itself into the refrigerator door behind her. Her eyes went wide and she sank to the floor shocked speechless and senseless by the bolt being fired at her.

He remained where he was for a second, and then he seemed to realize what had happened. The crossbow came down, and he went hesitantly over to her kneeling down beside her with a look of horror and regret on his face.

Tara managed to calm down slightly when he put the crossbow aside. Her heart was still racing but she concentrated on the fact that he was worried and obviously hadn't intended to hurt her......not on purpose anyway. He examined the cut on her cheek, probing at it carefully. At least he wasn't in a ditch, she reasoned, wincing slightly as he touched the cut. He winced in sympathy as she flinched from his hands, being as gentle as he could.

"B-bad night," she managed shakily attempting to make light of what had happened and failing..... He nodded once, shortly, pulling the last few splinters out of the cut on her cheek. She bit her lip to keep from whimpering as he did so. Finally all the splinters were out, and he looked at it for a long moment before kissing her gently on the forehead and standing, moving off to get the huge box of medical supplies again. Tara looked after him a bit concerned and a bit confused. She hadn't been expecting that...but....she didn't think she minded the small chaste kiss. She wondered if she should ask him about it, or treat it as a normal part of their definitely abnormal relationship. It was better than being staked if nothing else. She touched her cheek and waited for him to come back.

After a short time he did. She noticed the little things about his behavior this time that she hadnt' noticed the last time he'd patched her up. How he'd stare at the tubes of antiseptic before using them like he didn't know what they were. "Thank you," she said softly. Sure he had aimed and fired a stake at her...but.....well...he honestly hadn't meant to...and....he had been hurt enough without her making a big deal out of what had happened. Thanks or not, he still winced at what he'd done. She sighed softly unsure what to do now....

He rummaged through the boxes of bandages, not entirely sure what to do with bandaids, although he did recognize the iodine. She wished he hadn't, it stung when he poured a little onto some cotton and brushed it along her cheek. She gasped softly. Ouch. She needed to really stop getting hurt if only to avoid the medicines in that box. He winced again, murmuring an apology. "It needs to be cleaned," he said though, reasonably.

Tara nodded. "It's okay..."

He sighed tiredly, and looked at the bandages, finally giving up on finding anything in there or figuring out what should be used to bandage the smaller cuts. "It shouldn't need stitching..."

"Okay...." She tried to come up with something else to talk about..but wasn't sure what to bring up. She touched her cheek pondering what they ought to do now..... He watched her for a second and then looked away, almost as though ashamed. With his usual taciturn withdrawing, he went to put away the medicine kit.

She sighed and stood up debating....Maybe a change of pace would be good for a bit. She didn't think she was going to be sleeping any time soon after that. She wouldn't mind going for a walk....although....the whole vampire thing probably would put a damper on that. When he came back he was heading almost directly for his bed. She didn't think he was tired, not after that display of temper and then hair-triggered adrenaline, but he probably didn't want to be sociable anymore.

She frowned slightly heading back to her bed and sat on it pulling her knees to her chest. He lay down on his own bed, legs crossed at the ankles, staring straight at the ceiling. He looked vaguely like a corpse. She hummed softly to herself staring at the floor with a lack of anything to do. So, neither one of them were going to sleep. Well, they might as well talk if that was the case. Didn't he ever get bored? Evidently not. He was still staring at the ceiling, nothing showing of what he was thinking or if he was even awake. How did he live like this? she wondered again. Well, she didn't think she was going to be able to sit like this all night. She didn't want him to get mad at her.....considering the whole crossbow thing...but... "Ummm...so..." He didn't look at her, didn't move. He was probably still awake though. "Since we're both...still up....we could talk...if you want to that is," she added hesitantly. 

He sat up and gave her a very odd look. "You are.. strange."

"Strange?" She looked confused.

"Well, most young women I know.... knew... " his face clouded over briefly, then he shook his head. "Would not exactly accept being shot at... with such equanimity."

"Well, you...didn't really mean to.....and you...well, basically apologized afterwards," Tara said sheepishly.

"Does this happen to you often?" he asked dryly.

"Well, no," Tara said flushing.

"But you accept it as... normal."

"Odder things have happened to me," Tara said shrugging. He stared at her, perplexed. "One of my friends..is...a vampire slayer..." Tara said. Probably should have told him that sooner.

He stared at her, eyes widening slightly. "I...see. That .. yes. That explains it."

"Well, I mean I'm used to her staking..err..vampires....which isn't to say she...err...has tried to stake me....but...I mean, I've put up with worse. Spike for example...though he's not too bad." Boy, she was babbling to make up for him not talking. She chuckled softly.

"Spike....." he blinked. "A ... musician?"

Tara chuckled. "No...umm..he's a vampire actually."

He gave her a look of incredulity and disgust. "You make friends with the vampires?"

"No, just Spike. He...It's conplecated but he can't hurt anyone anymore. It's kind of funny. He's okay." Better than the guys she waited on at the restaurant.

He kept staring at her as though she'd done something... dirty, maybe. As though she'd been corrupted. "Vampires are evil, soulless beings. They do not make friends. With anyone."

"For the most part. Don't get me wrong. He's a soulless bastard, but he's also kinda sweet and harmless." Tara said.

"...." He did not understand this concept at all. "If he is a vampire, then he is _far_ from sweet and harmless. If he hasn't killed you yet it is because he has something else in store. Vampires only keep you alive to suffer..." Bitterness echoed wildly through his words.

"Well....maybe...but Spike?" She chuckled. "Not hardly."

He shook his head slowly, not believing or not wanting to believe.

"It doesn't matter though. But with all the dumb stuff my friends have done lately, I can deal with a misunderstanding." Tara added. She guessed they were still technically her friends...she hoped so anyway.

He just sat there and watched her, conflicting emotions playing across his face. She saw confusion, disgust, concern, fear, and self-recrimination before she lost count. Finally he looked away and just lay back down.

"Wow. Maybe I should just shut up for good," Tara said shaking her head.

He glanced over at her from his supine position on the bed. "I.................................. .."

She shrugged. "Don't worry about it."

He glanced at her again, confused and suddenly looking very vulnerable despite everything.

"It's just....I mean, don't you get lonely?" She said softly.

He turned back to stare at the ceiling, and said it so softly she wasn't sure she heard it. "Sometimes."

"You shouldn't have to be," Tara said sadly...even if she hadn't heard him say it, she thought he ought to know that. 

He laughed bitterly. "In my particular profession, anyone close is food for the vampires. I learned that lesson a long time ago."

Tara winced. "I.....I'm sorry..."

He shrugged slightly. "It's not your fault."

"Yes but....I'm sorry because it happened to you," Tara said softly.

That _did_ make him sit up and stare oddly to her. Perhaps it had been the way it was phrased.. or maybe he was reading more into it than she'd meant. "Why?" he asked slowly.

"Well...because....you're such a nice person I guess...because you didn't deserve that...Not that anyone deserves that but..." Tara said in an even softer voice.

"No..." he said softly. "No one deserves that."

She nodded. "How do you....how are you able to...handle it?" She asked though she regretted asking it as soon as she finished saying it...

Apparently deciding that staying in bed was fairly useless he stood, began to slowly pace the length of the room. He was silent for a long time before he finally answered her. "I don't know."

"I wish I could be more of a help to you," Tara said, more to herself than to him.

He stopped pacing, thinking about what she was saying. "Why?"

"Because you're alone," was all she could think of to say.

"Oh."

"You helped me alot....I mean, I haven't been any help to anyone in a while....It would be nice to be....helpful," she added.

He looked at her "Why do you feel you have to be helpful to everyone... to... mother everyone?"

"Not everyone," She said in protest. "And I don't want to mother you.....You may be brave, but even you need someone."

He shook his head stubbornly at that, "No. I don't."

She nodded firmly. "Yes you do."

He gave her an 'oh-really' look. "What do you know of what I need?"

"Everybody needs somebody," Tara replied. 

"I don't."

"Suit yourself. I'm still going to try to help you," She retorted.

He stared at her incredulously. "Whether I want your help or not?"

"Yes," she said looking right back at him. "Because I need someone too."

He actually looked scandalized at that.

"Oh not that way, you dummy," Tara said chuckling. She felt like she ought to tell him she was a lesbian, but...she didn't think that would help.

Now he just looked confused. "Then.... Oh."

Tara chuckled some more.

He flushed slightly. "This... the way ... " he made a gesture over at the wall of now-blank television screens. "I suppose I shouldn't take everything for granted from... those boxes, but..."

"You're better off ignoring them," Tara said. "Especially the programs you've been watching..."

He frowned slightly. "What sorts should ..." he stopped. "Explain it to me," he said after a bit, half-request, half-demand.

"The way the programs work?" Tara asked, not sure exactly what he wanted to know.

He nodded slowly. "I... think so. It's hard. I don't know the right questions to ask." 

"Ummm...well, they're kind of like plays. They're sort of true to life but they tend to have angles. Like urm....the writer wants the audience to be persuaded by what they see....," Tara said, trying to explain TV in general.

He nodded slowly, understanding at least the concept if not the medium.

"It's hard to explain what television is besides that....Ummm...you've seen photographs right?" She asked trying to decide how to explain how TV worked.... He nodded slowly again. "Well, with the boxes, it's like pictures...but they're able to move...like..people do in real life..." Tara said, pretty sure that made no sense...He was probably better off without television anyway. From his expression, anyway, it didn't look like it made sense to him. 

"I... saw. The programs that Sahjhan gave me, to learn the history I had missed."

"Well, we use things that are sort of like cameras....and they record what happens in front of them. For example, ummm..if someone had one, they could record us talking with it," Tara said. This wasn't working. Maybe she'd have to buy him a video camera or something....The demon was a lousy guide to the mordern world, but she didn't think she was much better.

"I... see." He clearly didn't, really.

"I'm sorry..it...it's hard to explain. I don't watch much of it...but...ummm," Tara flushed feeling rather embarassed that she couldn't explain television. "There's some good stuff. Like Shakepearean plays."

He looked a bit startled, but pleasently so. "They still teach Shakespeare?"

"Yes," she said smiling. "And Marlowe...among others....ummm....There's all types of shows. Not just the ones you've seen."

"Ah..." he said slowly. "I was ... Sahjhan implied I could learn how the world was today from... those." 

Tara frowned furiously. "Well, he's an idiot."

He arched eyebrows at her intensity of emotion. "Evidently." He sounded like he was trying not to smile. 

She shook her head clearly frustrated. "What a....Wow. I really don't like him now."

He smothered back a chuckle.

"What?" Tara said confused.

"Your.. innocent indignance..." he looked slightly embarrassed to be that patronizing. Only slightly, though. "It's charming."

Tara flushed. "Oh."

He shrugged slightly, almost apologetic. "I'm sorry. I don't mean to be patronizing."

She chuckled. "No..it's just sweet...." She colored a bit more. "Umm...."

He smiled slightly.

"See? Isn't talking nice?" She said, beaming, trying to cover up her embarassment.

He started to chuckle, and then he actually thought about it. Realized how long it had been since he'd had anything like a normal conversation. Realized how long it had been since he'd allowed himself to have anything like a normal life. "Ye-es..." he said slowly, unsure. "Yes."

"Well, we'll just have to talk more so you can be more sure about it," she said smirking.

He looked vaguely startled at her determination to keep him talking. "Uh........."

Tara chuckled attempting to sound devious just to bother him. It didn't exactly fool him, but he was vaguely bothered by her intentions anyway. "Unless you don't want to ever talk again...that will be depressing," Tara said shrugging.

He folded his arms across his chest and stared at her. "You are an... interesting young woman."

"You...are...an interesting man who is a bit grumpy sometimes but usually very nice," Tara said, smiling.

Holtz actually looked vaguely indignant. "Grumpy?"

"It's endearing," Tara protested.

He laughed. It was a rusty, unpracticed laugh from a mouth unused to laughing anymore, but it was a laugh. "You are _strange_, Tara." It was, perhaps, the first time she'd ever heard him use her name.

"I'll take it as a compliment and thank you," Tara said chuckling slightly. Hrm...she wondered what _his_ first name was.... He chuckled, shaking his head wryly. "I've been called much worse," Tara said shrugging and smiling. "At work even."

Holtz arched eyebrows at her. "Oh really?" he asked, sounding... indignant on her behalf, actually, more than anything.

"Yeah," she shrugged.

"Such as....?" he prompted when she didn't continue. "I am assuming, since I hear... well. On those programs that some of these names are repeatable in present company."

"Hmmmm.....I've been called just about everything," Tara said wrinkling her nose in disgust. Holtz scowled. "It's not that bad," Tara said noticing him scowling.

"And the others where you work allow this?"

"My boss does most of it," Tara said shrugging feigning indifference.

Holtz's eyebrows shot up into his vaguely-receeding hairline. "Oh?"

"He's a sleeze, but a job's a job."

He shook his head slowly. "You should not have to put up with that sort of lechery for any money."

"Probably not, but I do need a job. I'll get a better one soon," Tara said optimistically.

He sighed. "Are you entirely sure those... programs," he gestured at the wall of televisions, "Are not more of a reflection of life than you would like to think?"

"They are and they aren't. Some days they're more true than others," Tara said softly. "They're a way of dealing with life, I guess."

"Ah......" He left it at that.

"Life isn't as simple as TV shows," Tara said sighing.

He echoed her sigh. "Very little is as simple as it appears..."

Tara nodded. He lapsed into his customary silence again... "We should rent movies sometime," Tara said after awhile.

He gave her a quizzical look.

"They're like TV programs only much better," she said in order to provide some clarification.

"Ah........" He nodded, at least willing to accept the concept if not quite understanding.

"There's some really good adaptations of Shakespeare." She wondered what he'd think of cartoons and chuckled.

He actually looked intrigued at this. "Ah... hmm."

"You'd like them," Tara assured him.

He chuckled at that. "All right."

Tara smiled and yawned. "You should go to sleep," he said immediately.

Tara chuckled. He smiled. "No sleepy," she said yawning again. "_You_ should go sleep."

He chuckled. "Of course you're not," he said, pointedly inserting a yawn between his words.

"See, look. You're tired," she said smiling.

"As are you," he returned, smiling back.

She shrugged. "Fine..fine...I'll go sleep." She didn't move though.

He chuckled. "The bed is that way, as I recall," he said, pointing at her bed right next to her.

"So it is," she said covering her mouth with her hand as she yawned and began moving over to her bed. He chuckled again and watched her, not moving.

She stopped suddenly. "Oh..good night then," she said turning around. She impulsively gave him a hug before going over to her bed. He blinked, and barely recovered himself in time to hug her back before she went over to her own bed.

Tara smiled sleepily as she crawled into bed. Holtz watched her bemusedly for a second before taking to his own bed. Tara dozed off rather quickly not anxious for the work the next day but rather happy at the progress they were making.

It took Holtz considerably longer to fall asleep... though when he did, his dreams were at least peaceful, if not actually pleasent.


End file.
